As soon as the door shut, the room plunged into absolute darkness.
I couldn’t see a thing—not even my own hand.
I remained composed, having anticipated this, and moved carefully through the darkness.
Suddenly, the lights flickered on.
My vision blurred for a moment as my eyes adjusted, but once I could see clearly, I noticed seven individuals seated at a long table.
Each possessed a distinct appearance and presence.
At the far left sat a student in the standard Star Class uniform.
He was only present for the combat evaluation.
To his right was Professor Amon Fox—an older man with keen eyes and a serene smile.
He appeared harmless, but I knew better.
Beneath that genial exterior resided one of the most dangerous individuals at the academy.
Beside him sat Professor Isak, a bespectacled man with brown hair—a commoner and a specialist in history.
At the far right was Professor Talia Frostveil—a woman with silver hair and icy blue eyes.
As a science instructor, she ranked among the academy’s most brilliant minds.
Just left of center sat a black-haired woman, her expression unreadable.
She was Syira Vespeir, the headmaster’s personal assistant.
The headmaster herself occupied the central seat beside Syira, distinct from the rest on a throne of crimson.
She was Rosella Crytil Celestina Isol—the emperor’s twin sister and the infamous Blood Sovereign.
She was widely regarded as the most beautiful woman alive, and it was easy to see why.
Her ruby eyes radiated hostility when I met her gaze.
Her flawless, radiant white hair cascaded past her shoulders, and her immaculate white dress complemented her ethereal appearance.
It was fair to call her one of the most, if not the most, beautiful women in existence—though, in my opinion, Seraphina still surpassed her.
Despite her beauty, she harboured a deep resentment toward men and had a harem of women.
I couldn’t fault her for being lesbian; her brothers did try to rape her when they were young.
I tore my gaze away from the headmaster, noticing an empty chair beside her, then shifted my focus to the final figure beside Talia.
The instant I recognized her, a tremor ran through me—I had completely forgotten she was at the academy.
Her fiery crimson eyes met mine with utter indifference.
Her black hair, unstyled and practical, reached the middle of her back.
She wore a black-and-grey, military-inspired uniform, a black coat draped over her shoulders with black fur around the hood, and a katana strapped at her waist—she resembled a war general ready for battle.
Her appearance was striking, but that wasn’t what unsettled me.
My body tensed, reflexively recalling childhood traumas she had inflicted upon me and my siblings.
If I’d remembered she was here, I might have thought twice about coming to the academy at all.
The woman before me was my eldest sister, Octavia Dragaoth—the architect of my and my sister’s torment-filled childhood.
“Are you planning to stare all day?” Syira’s emotionless voice cut through my reverie, snapping me out of our silent standoff.
I inclined my head slightly in a gesture of respect—never submission—and introduced myself.
“My name is Asmari Dragaoth, heir to House Dragaoth.”
The headmaster’s displeasure was evident, but she remained silent; everyone knew that a Dragaoth bowed to no one—not even the emperor.
“Let’s not waste any time,” Isak said at last.
“We’ll ask you a series of rapid-fire questions on various subjects.
You’ll have five seconds to answer each before we move on.
“First question: Who founded Lumina Academy?” I didn’t hesitate.
“The first saintess, Urial Lumina.” I had barely finished answering before the next question was fired at me.
“Which high noble families make up the western region of the Isola Empire?”
“Lighthearts, De Marly, Crystal, and Suarez.” I probably missed someone, but these early questions were just warm-ups, so I let it slide.
“Name four 8-star families and their locations.”
“Isol in the Imperial Capital, Lumina in the central provinces, Frostveil in the northern territories, and Vespeir in the south.”
“Which ruler do you believe harmed the empire despite being remembered as a hero?”
“Lily River Leviathan.” Isak raised an eyebrow.
“Why?”
“She granted women too many rights.” Both the academy student and Professor Talia stifled a laugh, but a single look from the headmaster silenced them.
She shot me a glare, as if I’d just made the most misogynistic joke imaginable—which, admittedly, I had.
Still, I couldn’t help myself, even if it risked my shot at the Black Star position.
Isak continued with the next question.
“Which emperor was responsible for the greatest economic decline in the empire’s history?”
“Emperor Darius Celestian Is-”
“Why?” he interjected before I could finish.
Annoyance flickered within me, but I understood it was part of the test, so I pressed on.
“Because he shifted the tax burden from the nobility onto the commoners.
Agricultural output collapsed, internal trade faltered, and the Empire ultimately lost far more wealth from declining productivity than it gained from increased taxation.”
“Why is the Dragaoth family considered the strongest of the nine 8-star families?”
“Consistency.
Other families produce monsters once every few generations.
Dragaoth produces them every single generation without fail.
Talent becomes terrifying when it stops being rare.”
“Oh, without fail, you say.” Amon finally spoke, a sly grin tugging at his lips.
“Yes, without fail,” I replied, matching his grin.
Only a fool would miss his implication, but it would be even more foolish to give him the reaction he wanted.
Soon enough, I’d prove him wrong.
“If a person from the Lightheart family manifested a water affinity, what could we conclude?” Talia asked, finally joining the conversation.
“Nothing definitive.
Bloodlines influence affinity, but they don’t guarantee it.
The person might carry a recessive trait, exhibit a mutation, or be affected by some external factor.”
“Which is more dangerous: lightning authority or a space manipulation aspect?”
“Space manipulation.
Lightning authority is destructive, but space manipulation bypasses conventional defenses.” Talia nodded, trying to hide her surprise as she asked the next question.
“Why do you think demons and humans can’t coexist on the same planet the way other races do?” I’d anticipated this question.
“Demons can’t live on our planet because they are inherently hostile to other races, spreading chaos wherever they go.
But there’s another reason as well:”
“Another reason?” Talia echoed, puzzled.
I nodded and continued quickly.
Unlike normal essence, which nourishes the environment, demonic essence corrupts everything it touches.
Talia and Isak both frowned.
“Demon essence corrupts?
Why do you say that?” Talia asked, cupping her hands and leaning forward, curiosity clear in her eyes.
“Wherever demons die, the surrounding environment deteriorates.
Flora withers, wildlife vanishes, and essence density grows unstable.
The pattern is too consistent to be coincidence.
Four years ago, I witnessed it firsthand.”
That wasn’t entirely true.
I had seen a demon corpse, and the aftermath matched my description, but the real explanation only becomes clear much later in the story.
There was no need for them to know that.
“And every time someone dies, they naturally release their essence,” Talia murmured, her fascination evident.
“Would you rather have a loyal but incompetent shadow, or a disloyal yet highly competent one?” Amon chimed in.
“I’d rather have a competent shadow with no loyalty than an incompetent one.”
“And why is that?” he pressed, leaning forward.
“Loyalty can be bought, manipulated, cultivated, or enforced.
Competence cannot.
A loyal fool is a liability—while a useful enemy is, at the very least, useful.” Amon looked impressed and leaned back.
“How do you think demons enter our world?” Talia asked.
I tore my gaze from Amon and prepared to answer.
“Most people believe demons arrive here in spaceships, but that’s a common misconception.”
“A misconception?
Isn’t that how demons first arrived?” I shook my head.
What I was about to reveal was highly confidential, but I needed the Black Star position—so I pressed on.
“I assume you’ve all heard of the Forbidden Cult.” A sly grin tugged at my lips.
That was answer enough—because instantly, the headmaster’s killing intent pressed down on me, forcing me to my knees.
Her killing intent was unlike mine; hers felt as if an invisible weight was crushing me from above.
Thankfully, my sister intervened, her own killing intent nullifying the headmaster’s before it could do real harm.
I had no idea why she chose to help.
“How do you know about the Forbidden Cult?” she asked, her ruby eyes boring into my soul, making my breath hitch.
“I won’t be answering that,” I managed, barely breathing.
The Blood Sovereign was clearly displeased, but she couldn’t act openly, not with my father’s reputation looming over her.
Everyone else in the room glared at me as though I were too dangerous to be allowed to leave, everyone except my sister—she remained impassive.
I flashed a grin and asked, “Are there any more questions, or…?” My voice trailed off.
“We’re moving on to the second test,” Amon declared.
The others shifted their attention away from me and began describing the next challenge.
“The second test will evaluate your decision-making and character by placing you in a specially designed scenario.” I nodded, and the world around me blurred, shifting into something entirely new.
The second test had begun.